


Forgive Me Father for I Must Sin

by dearjayycee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, No Plot/Plotless, Priests, Smut, church
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:02:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjayycee/pseuds/dearjayycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock goes to confess his sins to the churches priest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive Me Father for I Must Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote on tumblr so I could leave plotless porn in someones inbox.  
> So that's why the chapters are really similar in length.  
> Now edited thanks to the lovely http://bibliophileangel.tumblr.com  
> Check out her RP blog.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned.” Sherlock sat in a small room waiting for the other man’s practiced response.

Which, soon came in soft rumble of words, “What have you done, my child?” Letting a hand run through his hair he started to tell the Father what he had wanted to get off his chest.

“Father, I have been thinking of very sinful things. There is this person that I have been lusting after for some time now.” If it were anyone else, they would probably be blushing like a young girl. They would be utterly ashamed, not so much of the act but more of admitting it to a priest.

But he wasn't. He was Sherlock Holmes and thoughts that were a hundred percent natural were nothing to be ashamed of. His mind had wandered…catching himself, he got back to what he was here for. "And my eyes have been wandering at the most inopportune moments." The priest took a sigh as if about to say something but Sherlock interrupted him so that he could go on with his story. "Father, my hands...I can't seem to keep them from roaming my body whenever I think about this person."

“Want and lust are natural, my child, but you should not objectify women.” The priest seemed pretty pleased with his answer, probably thinking it almost diplomatic. Another smirk graced his face, sometimes he loved this presumptuous naivety.

“Oh, Father it’s not a woman.” He felt like a kid in a candy store and he honestly would never be able to tell anyone why such little things like letting someone know they were wrong made him so happy.

The priest didn’t answer immediately. It was just the shock Sherlock had been hoping for. Luckily the church he went to was tolerant of homosexuality, but that didn't mean they had to like it. "Oh," the voice came out as a low, unsure rumble.

Sherlock shifted his legs, re-crossing them before he laid his hands down on his crotch. Gently rubbing his inner thighs as he went on. "Father, he is the most beautiful man I have ever met. Oh, and father...his butt is so round and scrumptious."

"That's enough son, thirty hail Mary's." The priest seemed to want to get rid of him as soon as possible, which wasn't part of Sherlock's plan. He knelt down on the floor, continuing to rub his clothed thigh, rubbing harder and higher up as he began his prayer. "Hail Mary, full of grace," he laughed to himself as he wondered how many other people had done what he was about to do. Sherlock crept his hand up to the waistband of his pants, letting his cold fingers press into his hipbone.

"The Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women," he started to chant it faster since he did have to do thirty, which seemed like a lot compared to the usual ten. Sherlock’s hand worked its way past coarse black curls, and down to his hot cock. He longed to do this for months now. "Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God," his mind went blank for a moment, less from the physical pleasure but more from of the mental.

"Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen." Sherlock’s hand moved faster over his length, his eyes locked on the silhouette shining through the grated window. Sherlock loved the round nose of his dearest father almost as much as he loved the round ass he knew was firmly planted on the wooden seat. He went back to repeating the prayer, it soon become the least important thing on his mind, stifling his grunts was his biggest concern at the moment. Sherlock hid them under small intakes of breath.

His hand had grown a mind of its own as it sped up without Sherlock wanting it to. He had planned to make sure the priest didn't realize what was going on. But when a moan, ever so quiet, slipped out of his mouth, the Father automatically checked to see if he was okay. "Are you hurt?" It was full of concern, only the way a 'holy man's' voice could be. Sherlock absolutely lost it, the voice finally driving him over the edge of sanity.

"Father, John..." It fall out of his lips as a pant, which the father mistook for pain. The priest rushed out of his small closet like room rushing into Sherlock’s but he did not notice Sherlock's his hand currently down his pants, stroking his cock fervently. Maybe he had mistaken it for a hand on his stomach. Father John rushed to his side and kneeled down. Sherlock hated to do what he was about to do but all he could think about was how badly he wanted the other man to see this. He wanted Father John to feel the same want that he was feeling right now.

Standing up, he walked over to the door, pushing it closed and blocking the door with his body. He had always hated that the doors in the confessional rooms for opening inwards, but right now he was thanking God that they did. Father John would be forced to move Sherlock in order to get out. "Forgive me father for I am about to sin." He removed his hand only to unbutton his trousers, wiggling them down to his knees with his underwear. The priest was completely shocked into silence.

He slipped off one of his shoes, then used his foot to push the shocked man onto the seat. Finally, he reached back down to grab his cock, giving it slow, long, loving strokes. The priest finally came to his senses, trying to get up off the bench, to which Sherlock stopped him with his leg gently forcing the other man back down. Sherlock had never been more grateful for small rooms and long limbs. He let his covered foot rub against the Father's black dress pants, slowly moving up to the man's thighs.

His hand tightened around his length, moving faster and faster, his pleasure being the only thing that he could focus on. Well, other than the blushing priest in front of him. Father John tried to stammer out sentences falling ever time Sherlock let out another moan. Finally the other man let out a small gasp as a foot began to rub his crotch, the Father would never admit it but he had the smallest fetish for doing unholy things in holy places.

Sherlock stroked himself harder and faster, one hand going down to cup his balls.  His head rolled back and hit the door with an audible smake. He kept moving his foot over the other man's crotch and felt the Father harden under him. It made him smirk like a man possessed. "Father, I have been watching you for months. Let me tell you, you look absolutely delectable in your church clothes. If I could I would eat you." Father John covered his mouth to try and hide the moans they both knew were coming out. He rested his head on the wall of the congessional, eyes sliding shut in pleasure.

"Father, don't worry, it's okay. This is a place to confess your sins." He took a shaking breath and moaned, "Forgive me Father I have sinned, I have touched a holy man and he did not protest." He could feel his body tightening, looking for both friction and release. Gripping his cock as tightly as he could, he ground down into both his own body and the priest's. Without any warning Sherlock came, completely overwhelmed with finally having the man he had been lusting after feel at least slightly the same way he did.

"John..." It was just a pathetic whimper and wished the word would have come out in a more controlled and sure manner. Hell, he was keeping a priest hostage. He removed his foot, leaving the priest hard and wanting. The priest was letting out ragged breaths, eyes still closed and head still resting against the wall of the confessional. Sherlock then pulled his pants up, got himself put back together he walked out with a barely audible "Amen."

Every Wednesday after that, Sherlock visited Father John, their encounters always ending and beginning with the same words.


End file.
